


"Turn Off The Lights and Kill All Your Friends Miss Jackson, We've Got A Big Mess On Our Hands" by Fall Out Boy

by heylazeh



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Bad references, F/M, Fiction, Lots of songs and quartet references, M/M, Murder, Panic! at the Disco - Freeform, RIP, S/O to that one Mikey Way RP on Shamchat that gave me the idea for Dallons for actually no reason, Satan - Freeform, The Academy Is... - Freeform, Uh death, Uses of rhetorical devices bc I am in AP English Language this year, XD, a The Forest Fic reference, fall out boy - Freeform, lots of death, maybe some ryden if you squint, my chemical romance - Freeform, one throam reference (that I didn't italicize so people can find it), seriously there's no happy ending, some religious undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylazeh/pseuds/heylazeh
Summary: I'm honestly sorry for this Just read the tagsPlus the tw's below They're really important // TW: deaths, mentions of suicide, mentions of overdose, mentions of shooting, mentions of stabbing, mentions of poisoning, mentions of drowning, mentions of suffocation, mention of uses of weed/drugs/alcohol, etc... // TbhI wouldn't recommendI just had the idea and wrote itMy friends liked it though





	1. Chapter 1

"BRENDON, NO. SERIOUSLY. YOU DON'T NEED TO DO THIS. PANIC! IS ALREADY DOING SO WELL AND YOUR DEATH OF A BACHELOR ALBUM WAS AND STILL IS AMAZING. IT HIT NUMBER ONE ON THE CHARTS. WHICH YOU DID ALL BY YOURSELF. SO PLEASE, JUST PUT THE KNIFE DOWN, SO WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS."

Brendon simply sighed upon hearing Ryan's exclamation, indifferent to the idea the older man was trying to propose. "I'm sorry Ross, but I've made it to the height of my career and if I want to keep it, I'm going to need a little help."

Ryan wasn't giving up so easily, so he tried again, "I'll help you, come on. The two of us. We can do it. Just put the-"

"I don't need your help!" The younger male exclaimed, "I need you dead. Need, not want. Really, if it was up to me I wouldn't have to hurt anyone. Don't get me wrong, I actually quite liked Dallon, Spencer, and the rest. You included. I always thought of us as super close and I saved you for last because I never really wanted you dead in the first place. Sure you and Jon left Spencer and I, more so Panic! in general, but I couldn't stay mad at you for that. The Young Veins were pretty good and those couple songs off your solo album were pretty good as well. It's just something about having the freedom to do whatever you want. Well, as long as it's approved of, of course. And sure I thought we'd have forever, just you and I, though we both know that idea died back in 2009."

Ryan shook his head quickly, "FUCK. Bren, the split wasn't supposed to be the end of us and our friendship. That was not ever my intention and I thought it'd be the same for you. It was just musical differences, that's it. I understood it and I thought you did too, but for the past couple of years it was just a matter of acting like our, mine and Jon's, time in Panic! didn't even happen for you."

Brendon glared at him as if he had said the most offensive accusation, "That's not fucking true and I have no idea what you're talking about."

Upon seeing instability in Brendon's reaction and realizing what position he had put himself in Ryan began once again, "I promise I'm not calling you a liar, I understand. It must have been hard on you as it was us and hurt you as it did us. It's understandable that you'd want to block out what was hurting you. Though it wasn't obvious, I can assure you that it was just something that people can pick up on and I'm sure a bunch, if not most of Panic!'s fans did too."

Brendon scoffed, "I wrote songs about you, so that's not true. If I didn't then they could think that. But I did, so I did nothing wrong."

Ryan gulped, knowing he had to be smart with his words or else there wouldn't be _any_ chance of getting out of this, "I wrote songs about you too. I wrote them because if I'm good at anything it's writing music. There were ones that made it onto the 'Take a Vacation!' album and some that have never even left my notebook. As well as, I can assure you that leaving the band wasn't an overnight decision. Fuck, even you knew that, all those years ago. It took a lot. I was an absolute wreck. Panic! was our band. It was the band that I started back in high school with Spencer- oh my fucking God, Spencer."

Brendon's tight scowl softened a bit upon hearing the last part, but knew it wouldn't change a thing as he raised the knife and made his way towards the now crying Ryan. "Hey, it's okay. Spencer is in a better place now and soon enough you will join him. Well, him, Jon, Ian, Brent, and Dallon. The rest. I'm sure they'll miss you."

Ryan choked on a sob before muttering out the words, "Fuck Bren. This isn't how I imagined our reunion at all." and starting to run the other way since it was evident that there was absolutely no way of reasoning with Brendon.

But the odds didn't really seem to be in his favor upon reaching the door to leave, only to realize it was locked.

He tried to unlock it but it wouldn't budge, so he got ready to run away once again.

Though by then it was too late.

Ryan fell to the ground, having blacked out upon feeling something hard hit the side of his head.

"I'm sorry Ry, but it's for the best"

\-------

Ryan choked on his breath as his eyes slowly opened.

What the fuck?

What was that?

Was it a dream?

Or was it real?

So many questions passed though his head, which quickly lead to the realization of just how much his head hurt.

It wasn't a dream.

And he wasn't dead either.

But instead tied to a chair so he couldn't escape as he heard footsteps make their way towards him.

Fuck.

This is it.

If he hadn't done it already, then he's going to do it now.

He's come to end it all.

Brendon walked towards the kitchen quietly, but with every footstep, bark from Dottie who was locked in the bathroom, and sound outside, it was as loud as can be to Ryan.

Not helping the fact that his head was in complete and utter agony.

Though he didn't really have much time to worry about his splitting headache as he saw the door open slowly and felt his own breath hitch.

The figure walking into the kitchen and seemingly getting bigger as he made his way towards the chair Ryan was bound to.

One foot after the other, Ryan couldn't find himself looking any higher than the black and white laced shoes on the feet of his attacker.

Feeling as though he'd surely regret it if he did.

Which he wasn't wrong about, for as soon as he felt himself being forced to look up with a tug of his hair, he saw the face he was trying to hide from.

Looking into dark brown eyes that he used to find friendly and familiar, he felt sick, seeing the gleam in his eyes that used to be so full of life now left seemingly dead and even more frightening.

Towering over Ryan intimidatingly, Brendon stood, making it as though the elder were looking up to the younger.

Completely ignoring their 2 inch height difference.

Since that didn't seem to matter as Ryan was both tied down and sat down.

Only anticipating his fate to come.

\------

Ryan wasn't sure how long the quiet lasted, but he knew it had lasted quite long.

Hearing the scratching on the door to his side, Ryan hoped Dottie would quiet down.

Seeing as though Brendon didn't seem to be in his best of states, to put it lightly.

And there's no telling what he'd do to even a little dog that gets on his bad side.

It seemed like hours, but Ryan was smart enough to know it couldn't have been any more than 10 minutes.

10 minutes or so of quiet until Brendon broke the silence.

Standing up from his spot on the couch he made his way towards Ryan once more, knife held tightly in his grip.

"I don't want to do this" Brendon said, shaking his head and Ryan wasn't shocked to the least.

Brendon's said it before but yet he hadn't acted towards doing something about it.

Neither to him nor the rest of the band that he killed before him, which just the thought of caused the bile in Ryan's insides to seemingly rise, though nothing would come out.

Brendon took a deep breath in before saying one simple word.

"Gunshots"

"Gunshots?" Ryan accidentally questioned out loud.

Eyes opening wide due to the fear that came with speaking without knowing if he could.

"Brent. You remember Brent. He played bass for Panic! all those years ago when the band had first started and Halo religiously. Which honestly would have been crazy for anyone to say, because how does someone play a a video game religiously? But with him, it was true, when we were younger he would always cut band practice short to get enough time to finish his homework and still have time to play. He was Halo obsessed, a good bass player, the one who introduced me to the you and Spencer to join the band in the first place, and now dead. All because of me. It was back in 2012. I'm sure you heard about it on the news and well, you know, literally anywhere. Anyways, I called him up asking if he would like to go out for drinks, for old time's sake. He said yes and we did. He was drunk, I wasn't. Not really. I barely drank, knowing I had a job to do. A job that I had to fulfill. A job that I got done. He was first to go in the back alleyway of a random pub in Las Vegas, where we used to live. I'd been dreading it for weeks beforehand, but with the devil on your shoulder as more than just analogy or whatever it is, he'd always been very convincing. I panicked and he laughed at me, telling me I would be foolish to call the cops now and try and save him since I was the one who did it in the first place. So when I didn't he told me he was proud of me, he told me, _"Heroes always_ _get remembered, but you know_ _legends never die"_. Fuck, just listen to "Turn Off The Lights" from Vices and Virtues and it should be pretty fucking obvious. Everyone who heard it thought it was genius, but I knew. I knew it was more than a song. It was my life now. I made a deal with the devil and there was no going back."

Ryan gulped, not knowing what to say.

Unsure of why Brendon was even telling him all this.

Did he think he owes Ryan an explanation of how he killed a bunch of his closest friends?

Or was he just that sadistic?

"Nothing was going right. The band was falling apart after you and Jon left and it was all I had. I couldn't let it go. I couldn't let it fall apart like I was. I couldn't let it slip through my fingers like you two did. I was desperate. So desperate and the deal was simple enough, kill one member each year, ex members included, and after 6 years Panic! will be at its height and stay there. For me. How could I have said no? Not forgetting the humor behind what seems like I could be a vampire due to the fact that it looks like I haven't aged in over 6 years, but nope. Not a vampire. Just the promise of eternal youth as well as eternal fame from Lucifer himself, but you already knew that. Well, most of it. It was why you got scared, it was why you tried to reason with me, it was why you tried to leave me.... again. But I'm not letting you go so easily this time"

As he spoke there was a psychopathic grin that never once left his face and a voice that held the same instability as when Ryan had brought up the fact that Brendon seemed to forget entirely about the Young Veins' existence for the passed 7 years.

Though "What the fuck-" was all Ryan could actually make.

"And after Brent came Ian. It was 2013 and way too convenient since he had recently left the band the year before. There was no real set order on who would die and well, when they would die. With 5 actual members, not counting me, I needed to fit at least one touring member. Or well, ex touring member. We were at a party and there was loud music, alcohol, weed, and drugs, lots of it. He was already under the influence and so far gone. I took him into the bathroom and did the opposite of what a person with an actual soul would do. A soul. Now that I look back at it, it seems like I may lost that in the deal. Seeing as though instead of stopping him, I got him to continue. Only leaving him when his pulse and heart stopped beating. That's when I knew the deed had been done. Locking the door behind me, so no one would find him until later on, and leaving the party to head home. Acting like I had no idea the next morning when someone told me they had broken the door down last night and found him. 6 pills left in his hands and played off as a successful suicide attempt."

_"A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud. A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown"_

Ryan was quiet, he never really knew Ian since he came after they left, but what he did know was that Ian did not at all deserve what had happened to him.

None of them did.

"Next came Jon, oh my Jon Walker. It had been about 5 years since the split and since we last saw each other. It was after my wedding and about two years after his. He called me to wish us well, saying he felt bad that he missed the wedding, having not come thinking it would be awkward if he did. I wasn't sure why, but he said he wanted to make it up to me. Inviting me over while his wife and daughter were visiting her parents for the weekend. We had a great time, reconnected almost instantly. It was almost as if we hadn't even spent a day apart. It was amazing and I hated how it was cut short so soon, but I knew it had to be done. Not wanting to do it while his family was there and also unsure of when I would get a chance to again, i did it the same night. He was found that night in his neighbors pool, beer bottles scattered, having accidentally "drunkenly" drowned after I left. Or so it seemed. I had messed with the security cameras in the front a bit, making it seem like I had left an hour before he was pronounced dead. Three hours before the cops came. Only having been found dead as the same neighbors dog seemed to have noticed a body floating in the water while it went out to do its business and started barking to wake up its owners. It did and they called the cops. I was investigated for hours because I was the last person to come in and out of the house, but let go after realizing they had no real evidence it was me thanks to the footage. Cassie was heartbroken and Sarah had to help her get through it. What a sweetheart. Though only then, seeing everyone's reactions, I knew that it was only going to get harder. Dallon was married and had two kids, Spencer was committed and going through personal issues of his own, and well, you're you. Ahhhh. But I was already halfway through, so who would I have been if I had given up so soon?"

_"But back away from the water, babe, you might drown"_

"After Jon came Spencer. It was the year he had officially left the band, the year of 2015. So only two years ago. And I have to admit, it was getting harder. Really, anyone with a brain could realize that there was a pattern in what was going on. Members of the U.S. pop-punk band Panic! at the Disco were dropping like flies annually. But I was lucky, no one seemed to suspect that it was me. I mean, why would they? Why would I, Brendon Boyd Urie, kill my own close friends and ex band members that I loved so dearly? It's preposterous to even think about. But everyone was still on high alert anyway. The label was getting, lmao at the word choice, anal about protecting its remaining band members. Having probably not realized that just ex members were at risk. Anyways, the band was playing a show at a radio festival and staying at a hotel relatively far away for the night when Spencer decided to visit. Not worrying so much since the hotel was far enough from the place where the festival was held and no one knew we were staying there. Just some of the many precautions taken to get us to feel safe and, well, be safe. Though I'm sure it's not hard to pick out the irony in the issue. Anyways, after night fell and hours after the concert ended, practically all of the touring members thought it would be a good idea to celebrate a successful concert with some drinks at the bar downstairs. Spencer, bless his soul, on the other hand politely refused the offer to join and instead said he was just going to call it a night. Calling jet lag a bitch and wanting to recover before his plane ride back the next morning. He never really did catch the plane though. It was about 10 to 2 and everyone had already went to sleep about a half hour prior seeing as though it had been a long day. I didn't complain since it only made my job easier. Spencer's room was on a different floor than ours, since he got the room long after we had them booked. I was in 8th room on the 7th floor while he had been in the 5th room on the 8th floor. I timed the attempt just right, wearing a black hoodie to hide my face, I started towards the fuse box. Only turning off the ones for floors 7 and 8, so not only would the lights shut off but the cameras too. I knew I had some good time on me because the security room was on the first floor and the elevator would not work for the two that had been shut off. After I shut it off I snuck into Spencer's room, in the dark, breaking in using only a hair pin. Wearing gloves too for no evidence left behind. I picked up a pillow, held it to his peaceful sleeping face, said I was sorry and suffocated him. I could tell he had woken up as soon as he felt it on his face and started thrashing about. He was dead after a minute, a quick death. It took no more than 6 minutes to get in and out of there, quickly making my way back into my own room before the lights switched back on."

_"Will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"_

"And after Spencer came Dallon. It was after the "Death of a Bachelor" tour with "Weezer". We were having an end of the tour party with a bunch of other people at a random club. Everyone was drunk off their asses but I stayed sober, only playing fucked to not raise any suspicions as I poured Dallon a not so well needed drink since he clearly didn't need anymore. But hey, that's not why I was making it anyway. Taking the idea of what I was going to do from a random detective show I saw the day before. I had no more than 6 seconds to pour as much Clorox from the supply cabinet into the alcohol as I could, before the next person came to start a conversation with me. He was pronounced dead the next morning. It started with sickness in the stomach, thinking the burn in his throat was just from the alcohol before. Though it was more than that. It had lead to severe liver and kidney damage that eventually killed him, slowly and painfully. To this day no one knows it was me, for Dallon, for Spencer, for anyone. You included. I'm sorry it had to end this way, I really am. For you, for everyone who I've wronged. But it is for the best. I'm here looking at the big picture and you guys are just variables needed to make it possible. Like a king, _I'm taking_ _back the crown_ , while you are all simply pawns in the game of chess that is life"

Ryan wanted to scream.

But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

This was all too much.

To say he was scared would be an understatement.

He was _t-e-r-r-i-f-i-e-d._

He had heard about all the deaths on the news, social media, through friends and couldn't believe he had been so stupid not to realize that it had been the same person the whole time.

And not only the same person but Brendon.

Telling Ryan about each of his friends that he cold-bloodily murdered one by one.

Almost as if he wasn't next on the list, but just telling a friend a funny story over coffee. 

It was ironic really.

As his breathing seemed to be slowly coming to a halt and his vision slowly starting to fade to black, the fact that the only thing he could actually make out was the truth, "I still loved ... cared about you during ... time that you would ... like I didn't even matter to you. Fuck, ... still do. I couldn't help .... You just-" as he watched Brendon make his way out the back door.

_"Out the back door goddamn but I love her anyway"_

Brendon stopped in his tracks after hearing that, turning around only to be met with Ryan's body finally giving in and falling limp in defeat.

He sighed at the sight, a frown evident on his lips.

But thankful that it was finally over.

Simply muttering 9 words that he knows will continue to haunt him for the rest of his immortal life.

_"I love you Ryan Ross, but not right now"_

\----

_"American musician, singer and songwriter most known for his work as the lead guitarist, backup vocalist and main songwriter for the band Panic! at the Disco before his departure from the band in 2009 George Ryan Ross III or simply known Ryan Ross was found dead in his home earlier this morning after long time friend Pete Wentz from the band Fall Out Boy found him. According to EMT's, 6 stab wounds in the chest were the reason for the young musicians death. The investigation is ongoing. Anyone with information about the crime and murderer is urged to contact Crime Stoppers at-"_

Click.

The TV turned off with a click.

You would have to be an idiot to have let the news broadcaster continue on with the story.

Especially if you already know it through a different perspective than any others who are watching it.

A first person perspective.

Having actually been there.

Having actually been the one to have seen Ryan in his last moments.

Having actually been the one to slowly drive the knife into his torso as he cried and begged for his life.

Crying.

Crying wasn't uncommon.

Whether it had been from Cassie, from Linda, from Breezy, from close friends, or even from fans.

He's even hearing crying coming from his wife right now as they're next sat on the couch.

Which had given him a reason besides one of his many "close friends" being murdered to let the black screen replace the one playing their regular news channel.

The breaking news, as it was titled, had disturbed their regular weatherman who was saying something about sunny days for the rest of the week.

Though isn't a sunny day supposed to be a happy day?

Not a day that Brendon has to look into his own wife's eyes and see fear.

Not only fear from hearing about the 6th and the counting murder from her husband's band, but fear for his own safety.

Pulling her husband into a hug and him doing the same, trying to reassure her that he'd be just fine to the best of his ability without sharing too much.

For what did he really have to worry about?

A psychopathic murderer on the loose killing his friends _and_ him?

Oh no, he's just fine.

Sarah isn't though.

She's sad, concerned, and worried that the person who killed the rest will come after the lone member.

Of course she is.

She's a wonderful person and an equally as wonderful wife.

Who Brendon loves so much.

Which is why he will never tell her what really happened.

Which is why he's going to have to continue to lie about some anti-Panic! person who's going around and killing as many members as he can.

A murderer with 6 bullets.

A murderer who left 6 pills in Ian's hand.

A murderer who held Jon underwater for 6 minutes, just in case.

A murderer who was in and out in 6 minutes time.

A murderer who only had 6 seconds to fill the drink.

And a murderer who left 6 stab wounds in the chest of Ryan Ross.

A murderer with only 6 years.

Which is why he continues to reassure her that he'll be careful as the tears fell from her eyes like raindrops would from a cloud.

A cloud on a stormy day.

Not a sunny day.

_"You'll never know the psychopath sitting next to you.  
You'll never know the murderer sitting next to you."_

\-----

The sound of the phone ringing cut through the atmosphere like a knife.

The caller ID read the name of "Pete Wentz", which seems to have not been the first time the name had come up that same day.

Call Brendon curious, because he answered.

"Hey Pete"

"Don't 'hey Pete' me. I know what it was you."

Brendon wasn't sure of what he was expecting Pete to say, but he knew it wasn't that.

Though if that's the way Pete wants the conversation to go, he sure as hell is going to be kind enough to let it.

Because well, this is Pete Wentz we're talking about.

Pete has done so much for him and the band.

Pete's great.

But Brendon wasn't going to let Pete think he had the advantage, no he was not.

No one has the advantage over Brendon Urie.

"I have no idea what you're talking about"

"Cut the bullshit, you know exactly what I'm talking about"

"I do?"

Brendon played on and Pete seemed like he wasn't taking any of it.

"Yes, you fucking do. Fuck. How could I have been so blind? I knew something was up once I heard the news about Jon, yet I didn't seem to click for me until after Spencer. Fucking Brent's could have happened to literally anyone, and if it weren't for the string of deaths that followed, Ian's may have actually continued to pass off as a suicide as well. But it was just you. We were trying to protect them from a crazy murderer who has something against you guys for some fucking reason, when in reality we should have been protecting them from you. Just you. But we didn't. We were too late. I was too late. For all of them and most recently Ryan. I'd called him literally every day for the passed couple of weeks, so when he didn't answer me this morning, I knew. I rushed right over. I should have told him. I fucking should have- How could you? How could you just _kill all_ _your friends_ like that?"

"I don't need friends, I need fans"

"Don't you dare go quoting fucking Scream 4 right now. I-"

"There are so many things that people wish they did yesterday, so they will do it today."

"What the actual-"

"It's never too late to tell the truth, yet it's also never too late to be truthful."

"What are you talking abou-"

"I'm sure if you did manage to tell them, then you wouldn't feel unaccomplished"

"You're right. You're actually right. I failed the first time, but I sure as hell am not going to do it again. I'm not sure if I'm really sorry for this, but I'm calling the cops Brendon. You need help and I can't let you get away with what you have done and let you hurt anymore innocent people. They didn't deserve this. None of them. They did nothing but be your friend and care for you, yet this is what you do to repay them. I'm not sure why you did it, but you still did it. Stay on the phone and we'll- I'm about to leave the house. Where are you now?"

"That sounds great and all, really it does, you wouldn't mind doing me a favor, would you?"

"What? A favor? What do you nee-" Pete asked, opening the door only to be met with the grinning face of Brendon who had been standing there, wearing a black hoodie that covered most of his facial features as well as dark jeans.

Dark hoodie covering his facial features.

Covering is hiding.

Hiding is not getting caught.

Brendon is not getting caught.

Brendon is right in front of him.

Only then, as he was being pushed into his own home, did Pete realize what was going on

He was entering his own home for what seemed to be the last time.

Though it was forcibly.

By Brendon's hand.

With Brendon closing the door behind them.

He'd have no escape.

He'd have no way to tell anyone what had happened.

He'd have no way to stop Brendon Urie.

_"Closing the goddamn door, thanks Pete"_


	2. A/N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So my friend just pointed this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> out and  
> nOPE  
> NO THANKS


End file.
